Don't Go Chasing Flies
by Alley-Kat-94
Summary: Ten months after the infamous Opera, Graverobber assumes Shilo is long gone. But he's proven wrong when he discovers her in the graveyard one night looking very different. Lem/Lang Rated M for the next few chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Graverobber counted his steps carefully. He had not been here in months, almost a year. He slinked towards the mausoleum, crouching amongst the statues near the entrance. Waiting for the flashing lights to pass, Graverobber thought back to the last time he'd scavenged this particular graveyard. He'd met Shilo Wallace that night. Perhaps on purpose, perhaps not.

Graverobber did not like secrets. In fact, seeing people lied to or blinded with fanfare pissed him off more than anything. When he saw Shilo that first time, she looked like any other teenager out causing trouble. But when Graverobber caught her disgust and confusion over what he was doing, it was obvious she was sheltered; lied to. Finding her at Blind Mag's show only proved that further, so he gave her a hard dose of truth then. But had that really helped? Shilo Wallace was one big secret. How was he to know how big?

When he told her about Blind Mag, it wasn't because he knew Rotti's plans. It was common gossip; sick, twisted entertainment, that's what he wanted to show. He didn't know what he was setting her up for, or that he unintentionally led her into Rotti's scheme. He didn't know, and it was that guilt that kept him downtown, away from the biggest mausoleum in the city.

He swatted at a big and watched it flit around his face before zipping out over the headstones. His mouth slid into a grin as the bug's gentle, blue glow tugged at the fond memory. A little girl chasing flies. He hoped wherever Shilo disappeared to, she still had that optimism. The image of her leaving the opera; drenched in blood, tears on her cheeks, but with that strong resolution in her eyes. It was almost enough to ease his guilt, knowing she rose above the corruption instead of crumbling under it.

It was a bad idea to come here. Ten months of distance was not enough time to squash the memories. That kid lost her whole world and he'd helped.

Suddenly, the bug's light went out. Graverobber had been watching it, but in a blink it was gone. He squinted into the darkness and just barely caught a shadow moving between the stones. He settled closer against the statue that hid him. GeneCops were practically multiplying overnight these days. Amber Sweet started a "clean up the streets" initiative. From then on, all new corpses were burned, their ashes swept away. Patrols were maximized in problem areas, particularly old graveyards that still housed bodies. Good for city planning, bad for Graverobber's business. No fresh corpses, no fresh Z. That's why he was here.

The shadow moved again, it stepped lightly, almost silent. As it got closer, Graverobber saw it was a person; small, hooded, in all black. He began backing up. Graverobber didn't want to deal with any baby Z peddlers tonight. He needed a major cash in, not to scuffle with wannabe teenagers.

But before he could slip down from his hiding place, a bell like voice caught him off guard.

"industrialization has crippled the globe…"

Graverobber's breath caught in his throat. That was his song, his pitch. But where he sang it poignant and fiercely, this voice was light, feminine…sad.

"…nature failed as technology spread…"

There was so much pain, the voice broke softly and Graverobber felt his body lock in place.

"…an endless wake, a market erected…"

It was so close. He dared to turn his head slightly. The hooded figure sat on the steps at the entrance to the tomb, maybe twelve feet from him. Her voice carried easily through the still night air.

"… an entire city built on top of the dead…"

Her breath rose and fell. They were his words but this was not Graverobber's song. He watched the girl, assuming the voice belonged to a girl, curl her knees up to her chest and trace her finger around the rim of a jar. The jar flickered with a blue glow.

With a shock that hit him like a slap to the face, he realized there was only one person who could be sitting there.

Singing his song.

Chasing bugs.

In a Graveyard.

"… and it's his job…"

He gasped into his hand, not remembering when he covered his mouth. She'd skipped ahead, choosing to sing about him. She was singing about him?

"… to steal and rob…"

Without giving himself time to think, or reconsider, Graverobber stepped down onto the ground. Pinning his back to the wall he edged closer to her, a little at a time. Finally getting close enough, just a couple feet away, he whispered the final word.

"Graves."

The hooded head snapped up, looking around quickly. She set the jar down on the step beside her and stood. When Graverobber saw her take a step forward, just inches in front of him, he reached out and grasped the back of her hood, pulling it down.

She whipped around.

Graverobber couldn't breathe.

Shilo Wallace stood before him, her big brown eyes boring into his. But that was the only thing that was the same.

He hadn't noticed when she was far away, but Shilo had grown at least three inches. Her face had also thinned, becoming more angular and mature. He hadn't imagined she'd have such defined cheekbones and full lips. She must get them from her mother, same as her hair. Gone was the thick, black wig. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, some stray bits falling from it and curling at her cheeks. A thin, pale scar ran down the side of her otherwise perfect chin.

She wasn't a kid anymore.

Before Graverobber could say anything, Shilo had wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. He froze, not sure what to do. When she pulled away he saw she was smiling broadly.

"I can't believe it's you." She said. He opened his mouth to reply but at that moment a light flashed across his eyeline and he instinctively sunk into a crouch. Shilo followed.

"Come on. This way." She said, snatching her bug jar off the steps before scurrying through the headstones into a dimly lit tomb. Graverobber hesitated before making the choice to follow.

So much for a major Zydrate score.


	2. Chapter 2

Shilo moved fast down the rugged tunnel, Graverobber struggled to keep his footing. He'd tried to talk to her but she'd raised a hand and pointed upwards silently. He looked up and saw thin storm grates running along the ceiling. Now it was getting much darker, no more grates, no more light, he was only following the sound of her thick-soled boots scraping against the stone.

Finally, a heavy sounding door opened and Graverobber stumbled forward into the foyer of the Wallace home. It was…empty.

He'd never been here but he had expected some kind of furnishing in such a high class neighborhood. Things like framed portraits, fainting couches, ornate chandeliers.

This room was empty, a chandelier did hang but the metal was dark and rusted. The hardwood floor was bare, no decorated rugs. The walls had a faded floral pattern that flaked off when Graverobber ran a hand along it.

"Love what you've done with the place…" He mumbled to himself. He then remembered who led him here and turned to see Shilo, sliding the secret fireplace door closed behind her.

She was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and dark leggings, perfect for skulking around tombstones. But it was clear that she'd developed as girls typically do. She had hips now, longer legs, feminine curves; Graverobber's mouth suddenly felt dry.

Shilo smiled at him.

"Hey." She said, her voice calm and a little deeper than it had been. Almost… sultry.

"Hey, Kid." Graverobber said, thinking of nothing else to call her. He'd never called her by her name. Why start now? Shilo's smile grew and he felt a strange sense of relief.

It ended quickly though.

"Thought you'd be halfway around the world by now." He said. It was true, had he been in her shoes, no friends, no family, no cash… on second thought he pretty much was in those exact same shoes, and he was still here.

Shilo twisted her mouth, eyes looking down. He knew it was a thoughtful face but to him it actually looked … sexy.

What the fuck was happening here?

He shouldn't be thinking that. She was only… what? Eighteen?

"After the opera," Shilo began, pulling Graverobber out of his internal calculations, "I came back here, I didn't have anywhere else to go really. Plus I needed someplace to go and detox."

Graverobber raised an eyebrow. That's right, the meds her dad had put her on. That must be why she grew so much in just ten months. Had he really been stunting her growth for seventeen years?

Shilo was still speaking. He had to pay better attention.

"It was really painful, almost two weeks of well, mostly passing out and puking." She laughed a little but Graverobber didn't think it sounded funny at all. She'd gone through that all by herself? "After a few weeks my hair started to grow and things got kind of… confusing."

Graverobber shifted uncomfortably.

Puberty was bad enough. Rapidly accelerated puberty without knowing anything about it and being completely alone? It sounded like hell.

"So how'd you figure it out? Hit up the library?" Graverobber didn't know how he managed to make a joke but it lightened the mood. He paced casually around the small room, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.

Shilo smirked in response and fixed him with a pointed look.

"My dad _was_ a doctor. There's a medical journal for every condition known to man in his room." She said. Graverobber stopped pacing, a coldness appearing in his chest.

Her dad was a doctor.

He was also a Repo Man.

Probably the most twisted one in history.

"Are you thirsty?" Shilo suddenly said, she walked across the room and went through a doorway next to the stairs. Graverobber followed, what else could he do?

The kitchen was also very scarcely decorated. Just an average wooden table, a couple tall cabinets lining one wall, a counter, a sink, a fridge; had he been so wrong about how the other half lived? Or was this Shilo's doing?

She went into a cupboard and retrieved two glasses, filling them at the sink she set one in front of him. He hesitated before taking it.

Shilo sat. Graverobber sat.

Shilo sipped her water. Graverobber sipped, getting momentarily distracted at the way the water made her pink lips glisten.

He shook his head trying to knock the thoughts loose.

"So what else have you been up to?" He said leaning back. Shilo shrugged.

"I got a job."

Graverobber raised an eyebrow.

"Doing what, kid?"

"I wash dishes at Juicy Lynn's."

That had Graverobber sitting up a little straighter. Juicy Lynn's was a popular place on the club side of town. It was the kind of restaurant you went to when you needed something to eat before going to the club, and someone to take home after. The waitresses were famous for being sassy, skinny, and oh so dumb. For ten units you could take any one of them home and never have to hear from them the next day.

A real drive thru kind of place.

"Dishes huh?" He pressed.

Shilo smirked and Graverobber felt a tiny shudder go through him.

"Just dishes. After I got all … sorted out," She gestured to herself generally, "I tried to get out and find a real cool job. But I realized something."

Graverobber waited, watching her unzip her hoodie, revealing a dark red, lace trimmed tank. He gulped at the new view. When did she get breasts? He forced himself to look back at her eyes.

"Realized something?"

Shilo grinned, probably knowing exactly what he'd been looking at.

"Yeah," She said, "I realized, I don't like being around people."

Graverobber laughed out loud before he could stop himself. The girl who busted down walls just to get out into the world, finds out she doesn't like being around other people.

"Join the club, Sugar." He laughed.

Shilo rolled her eyes.

"I went in and asked for a job cooking or cleaning." She continued, "Lynn was real confused, I guess when girls apply they usually ask for something else."

"Usually." Graverobber agreed.

"Yeah well, jokes on them. I make three times as much doing dishes cause I show up, I work, and I'm not addicted to Z." She threw two thumbs up and smiled proudly. Graverobber couldn't help but grin back.

"Careful, that's my clientele you're talking about." He joked. Shilo stood, taking her empty glass to the sink.

"My apologies, oh great Zydrate King." She said with a mock curtsey to him. Graverobber momentarily felt calm, the easy conversation felt nice. Refreshing even. It had been a very long time since he felt like he had a friend.

Shilo removed her hoodie the rest of the way and draped it over the back of her chair.

No more calm.

Graverobber took in the sight of Shilo's new body. She'd developed breasts, and clearly defined hips. In just the leggings and tank top and ankle high boots, Graverobber could see every line, every curve. He could also see the straps of a simple black bra under her tank and his mind wandered.

Dangerous. Shilo was dangerous now.

Eighteen. Eighteen. He repeated the word over and over again in his mind. He wasn't much older than that but it was enough to make him think about his actions.

Oh and the actions he'd do…

Eighteen!

Shilo went over to the sink again, her back to him, she reached up and unclipped her hair, shaking out the curls and running her fingers through it.

Eighteen!

His eyes settled on her butt and his pants suddenly felt tight. He shifted in his seat.

Time to go.

He stood up and Shilo turned, her hair falling to just above her shoulders.

"You probably want me out of here." He said, unsure of why it sounded like a question. Shilo's brow furrowed and she cocked her head.

"Why?"

Graverobber faltered. _Why? _He thought, _Because I can't stop staring at your fucking tits. _

He cleared his throat.

"Just figured."

Shilo walked over and stood in front of him.

"Would you mind staying?" she said, her enormous eyes pleading up at him, "You're kind of my only friend." She was just inches from his face. Did she know how close she was?

Graverobber backed up a step.

"You think I'm your friend?" He asked. Every memory he had of her was like a knife in his gut. He'd been racked with guilt over the role he'd played and she'd been thinking of him as a friend this whole time?  
Shilo shrugged.

"You're the only person I don't hate."

Graverobber smirked.

"That is a friend." He stretched his shoulders out, the proximity making him feel confined. "Okay, what do you want to do?"

He could think of plenty of things he'd like to do. Plenty …

To his surprise, Shilo stepped back and wrinkled her nose.

"First, I kind of want you to take a bath." She said. Graverobber lowered his brow and Shilo snickered.

"I'm sorry, Graves," she said, "You just… stink."

Graverobber didn't know what surprised him. The fact that she'd used a nickname for him that he'd never heard before, or the fact that she was offended by his smell. He slept in a dumpster and spend every night in grime soaked alleys, around festering Z addicts, and lugging corpses through graveyards. What was he supposed to smell like? Roses?

"Come on." Shilo said, she turned and went out the kitchen door, heading up the stairs. Graverobber followed, mesmerized by her swaying hips.


	3. Chapter 3

Shilo led him upstairs and down a hallway. He took in the look of the walls. More fading wallpaper. Big, discolored squares lined them, some crooked; paintings he realized. There had been furniture in here, now it was empty. Save for a couple lamps, a narrow hall table and a mirror down at the end; the hallway was completely bare.

Shilo took a left and Graverobber followed her into a moderately sized bathroom. Also very scarcely furnished. He was beginning to get really confused.

"Hey kid, did you have an estate sale or something?" He joked. Shilo turned around; she'd been taking a towel out of a tall, cabinet. She folded it against her chest and awkwardly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"I didn't really…like all the stuff. It was just too much." She shrugged her shoulders, almost like she was suddenly cold. "I put it all in the basement."

Graverobber looked in her eyes and saw something there that made him understand. She didn't like all of the things that were left behind because they weren't hers; they were her father's. Memories of the life they'd had before. Memories of the mother she'd never known. She couldn't be around them anymore.

Graverobber shrugged off his fur-collared jacket and dropped it to the floor. More than willing to change the subject.

"Alright. I'll scrub. But you need to scram." He said, removing his scarves and other small accessories.

Shilo set the towel down on top of the toilet and looked him over.

"You should let me wash those." She said, eyeing his clothes.

Graverobber paused.

"And just what am I supposed to wear?" He gave her a hinting grin. Shilo's eyes flashed with something he didn't totally understand.

"I have some things. Just leave… those… out in the hall." She left quickly then. Graverobber smiled a little after the door closed. He wondered if she knew how cute she was. He pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his boots. Catching his reflection in the mirror he looked over his exposed chest and leather pants.

It wasn't fair to compare Shilo's body to his own. She was fresh, pure, and tight.

He was chiseled. Scarred. Tattooed. Used. Lean sure, but it wasn't anything compared to her.

He turned away from the mirror and stripped off the rest of his clothing.

Graverobber couldn't remember the last time he'd had a shower. A real shower. He reveled in the feeling of warm water running down his back. The lather of soap in his tangled hair. He watched the brown, tinted water circle the drain, washing away the grit and grime of the streets. He scrubbed his face and his hands came away with smears of white and blue. The makeup was a personal choice. It made his more recognizable on the streets. Most addicts' brains were fried beyond normal comprehension. He couldn't expect them to remember his plain face. He needed dazzle, edge, branding.

With just Shilo here it didn't seem necessary to reapply it. Who else would he be? One night without his trademark glitz wouldn't change anything.

He gave his body one final rinse before stepping out and wrapping the towel Shilo left around his waist. He caught his knew reflection in the mirror and surprisingly didn't feel the need to turn away immediately.

He hadn't been clean, really clean, in a long while.

It was interesting.

He scanned the bathroom but there were no clothes there. He opened the door and checked where his pile of street clothes had been; nothing.

He scanned up and down the hallway. No sign of Shilo.

"Kid?!" he called.

"Door on the left!" he heard from downstairs. Graverobber tentatively stepped out of the bathroom, steam drifting over his head. Next to him was a bedroom. It was relatively small, with a big fireplace, a big bed, a big set of windows, and hardly anything else. The bed had plain white sheets on it. There was a bare alcove in the corner with a dresser shoved in it. It had to have been Shilo's room at some point because the wallpaper had clearly been pink. Someone had tried to peel most of it off but thin strips of it still clung to the wall. The bed was only a bed, it lacked a frame or a headboard but Graverobber had to assume it didn't always look like that. Lying on the bed was a dark purple, button up shirt, and a pair of sturdy black jeans. He put them on, relieved that they fit well. His boots were also sitting on the floor; most of the mud was off them and the laces looked much cleaner. He yanked them on and surveyed the room.

It surprised him once again how scarce everything was. But it made sense. Shilo's life had been chaos, pain, and an absolute cluster of shit.

He imagined it must have felt good when she cleared out her past. He bet Shilo felt much more peaceful standing in these empty rooms. Like she could breathe in and the air wouldn't be tainted with all the pain of what she'd been through.

His guilt returned then.

Why hadn't he come and found her?

Why had he sulked in a dumpster for ten months, torturing himself with the idea that he'd hurt her when he could have helped her?

He'd been stupid. He had to make it up to her.

There was a knock on the door, he turned and Shilo's face appeared.

"Hey, I wanted to … whoa." She said, her expression changing to one of surprise. She opened the door the rest of the way and Graverobber felt his jaw go slack. She'd changed her clothes too. She was dressed in a plain, red night shirt with thin straps that just covered everything but didn't leave much to the imagination.

"You look… good Graves." Shilo smirked. He looked good?

_He _looked good?!

She was breathtaking! She looked like a fucking angel! And he looked like…what?

Graverobber's eyes scanned the room and found a tall mirror in the corner. He didn't look bad. The shirt draped on his trim frame nicely and his damp hair was beginning to twist in on itself like it normally did.

But seeing Shilo standing there, leaning on the doorframe, one strap slipping down her shoulder to reveal the tiniest hint of the black bra underneath; Graverobber gulped down his yearning.

"Can I talk to you?" She asked. His eyes went from her legs, to her hips, to her chest, to her neck, to her eyes before he gave a quick nod. Shilo walked in and crawled up on the bed, sitting cross-legged. Graverobber's knees felt shaky. She waited for him to sit down across from her. He tried to get comfortable and ignore the tight feeling in his groin.

"What's this about?" He says. Willing his gaze to meet hers and not linger below the hem of her nightshirt.

Shilo's eyes looked down as she picked at her fingernails.

"I don't want to mess this up or anything. I just… I wanted to ask…" He waited while she found the words. She took a shaky breath and locked eyes with him. Her voice clear and sharp.

"What does sex feel like?"


	4. Chapter 4

***LEMON!***

Graverobber's mouth felt extremely dry.

Had she just said that?

What did she mean?

What game was she playing?

What did she want him to do?

Oh the things he'd do…

His eyes drifted to the shadowed section in between her legs, just hidden by that tiny nightshirt. Her pale skin was like marble, unscathed save for that mysterious scar on her chin. She looked at him with her big innocent eyes, waiting for an answer.

"I…" He started, but couldn't bring himself to say the thought that came to mind which was _I'd be glad to show you._ "What do you mean?" He said instead.

Shilo's shoulders shrugged and fell. Watching it brought a small touch of heat Graverobber's palms. Shilo went back to looking at her fingernails. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"It's not like I haven't done … things. … By myself." Graverobber's erection was not fully attentive. He couldn't tell if she could notice it but he prayed she didn't.

Shilo continued talking.

"I've just never been with anyone… like that. I wanted to know what it's like." She chanced a look back up at him but Graverobber was turned away to hide his … new development.

"I'm sorry." Shilo said. Graverobber felt guilt seep into his chest. He wanted to help her but with this? How could he? He certainly knew how but…

No, she couldn't want that. Not him.

The room suddenly became dimmer, and he heard soft footsteps by the window. Shilo drew the curtains shut. She returned to the bed, this time just sitting on the edge opposite him.

"You don't have to be sorry." He managed to say. He felt the bed move as Shilo curled herself up.

"You can sleep in my dad's old room. It's across the stairs." Her voice sounded faint, broken. Like it had been when she was singing in the graveyard. When she'd been singing about him. The guilt twisted deeper into Graverobber's chest. He was such an asshole.

"You can't explain it in words." He finally said. The bed shifted again, Shilo moving.

"You can't?" She pressed. He was in physical pain trying to fight the urge to spin around and pin her to the bed. His nails dug into the mattress, holding his place.

"No." Was all he could force out, biting his lip.

The bed shifted yet again and he could feel Shilo's body close to his. The warmth she radiated called to him but he fought it. She sat beside him, sitting up on her knees; she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Graverobber's skin practically melted at the sensation. It travelled across his back and rested on the opposite side, Shilo's chest now pressed against his shoulder and he could feel every breath she took. Her other hand came up to tug softly at his collar. Her voice was soft at his ear.

"Will you show me?" She whispered, Graverobber's desire pulsed through him, he felt a moan in his throat that he refused to let out. His hands shook with the effort. Shilo's hand moved from his collar and slowly trailed down his torso to the tension in his lap. He let out a gasp despite himself, as her gentle fingers brushed against his zipper.

"Please," She whispered, "Please Graves, will you show me?"

That was it. He broke.

Graverobber turned his head and caught her lips in a kiss more intense than anything he'd ever experienced. Her arms circled his neck as he pulled her back onto the bed, her body fitting easily under his. He ran his hand up her thigh as he kissed her, relishing in the silky feel of her skin. When he got to the hem of her nightshirt he halted, unsure about going forward, but Shilo crushed his lips against hers and bent her legs, giving him complete access. He gasped into her mouth when he felt her heat against his aching member through his jeans.

Shilo had unbuttoned his shirt and her soft, warm hands were traveling up and down his back. He pulled her nightshirt up and over her head, tossing it aside, he took a moment to stare at the woman that lay before him.

His whole life, the only women he'd ever known were promiscuous, plastic, addicts. There was nothing to them but implants and staples. But seeing Shilo, laying beneath him, dark hair splayed out behind her head, in nothing but her black bra and panties.

What had he done to deserve something so flawless?

He had no time to think it over because Shilo was already pulling him back to her for another kiss. Her hands quickly tore his shirt from his shoulders.

Graverobber snaked a hand beneath her and unclasped the teasing black bra, slipping it off her easily. With her perfect, round breasts now exposed, Graverobber wasted no time moving his mouth down to circle one pointed, pink nipple. Shilo moaned beneath him and he felt a shudder go down his spine. He brought his free hand to her other breast and teased it gently, loving the way she writhed beneath him.

His erection ached in his pants but he ignored it, the only way he could hold his dignity was if he refused to pleasure himself. Only Shilo. And pleasuring Shilo turned out to be more than enough for him at the moment.

She moaned deliciously as his hands caressed her and Graverobber let his mouth return to hers for a deep kiss. Shilo gasped against him when he slipped his tongue between her lips, followed by a deep sound of enjoyment.

His hand moved along her hip, taking his time before he arrived at the place he so desperately wanted to touch.

Pushing aside her panties he let out a growl when he felt how ready she was. His finger slipped inside her easily and Shilo clenched around him. His thumb found her clit and massaged it gently. Shilo squirmed, soft moans of pleasure falling from her lips like rain. He slipped another finger inside and moved them faster, causing Shilo to buck beneath him. She arched her back and he knew she had to be close, so close.

He could feel himself building, without any help at all, Graverobber knew he was going to cum whether he aught to or not.

Shilo's body tensed and she clung to him, nails digging into his back, she cried out and a guttural growl erupted from Graverobber as he felt himself tip over the edge with her.

White spots blurred his image and he was positive he would pass out from the impact.

Shilo's body went slack beneath him and he collapsed along side her, both of them panting. Shilo pulled the white bed sheet up over them and Graverobber once again doubted if he did the right thing.

It felt so right to him.

But he was selfish, and definitely unworthy.

Shilo curled herself up in the sheets and whispered to him,

"Thank you."

Before rolling over and falling asleep.

Graverobber lay there, staring at the ceiling.

What was he going to do?


	5. Chapter 5

Graverobber slept like he was dead.

Flat. Motionless, sleep.

Part of it was because he'd never cum so hard in his life, but most of it was because if he thought too much about what he'd done, the shock would keep him up for days.

He tried reasoning to himself. She'd wanted to, she'd asked for it, she'd thanked him!

Why did he feel so guilty?

Because she still seemed like a kid.

Shilo didn't know anything about sex or men, she didn't know what it was supposed to mean.

What was it supposed to mean?

Graverobber was positive he'd never been in love. But he'd definitely had sex.

Raw, undignified, sometimes painful sex; because that's what he deserved.

Graverobber lay in the bed, eyes wide at the revelation. He didn't deserve Shilo. That's why he felt so guilty.

Turning over, he realized he was alone in the bed. He sat up, scanning the empty room. His own clothes were folded and sitting on the end of the bed. He quickly changed into them, taking a moment to admire the fresh scent. His jacket must be downstairs. He poked his head out the door, no Shilo.

He checked the bathroom, no Shilo.

He walked down the stairs, pausing when he heard sounds coming from the kitchen. She was here. His breathing sped up. Should he run?

But his jacket, his bag; _quit being a pussy, _he told himself.

Coming into the kitchen, Graverobber wasn't sure what he should do. Shilo stood next to the stove, eggs sizzling in front of her while she buttered a piece of toast. Graverobber's stomach grumbled at the delicious smell. Fortunately it couldn't be heard over the soft music coming from a battered old radio. Shilo hummed along, she seemed…happy.

She was wearing a pair of black short shorts, with thigh high black stockings and a grey tee shirt covered in stains. Graverobber cleared his throat, Shilo spun around, a smile appearing on her face.

"Hey." She said.

"Hey," He responded, "Uh, coat? Bag?"

"Den." She clarified, "Here, eat this. I'll get them."

She slid a fried egg on top of a piece of toast and set the plate down for him. Graverobber stared after her before attacking the food like a wild animal. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had hot food. It burned his tongue but in the best way. Shilo returned a moment later catching him with half a piece of toast in his mouth and yolks dripping down his chin. She chuckled, setting his things on the table.

"Do you want another?" She asked, handing him a napkin. He eyed the egg still on the stove. "I already ate." Shilo insisted, grabbing his plate. He took the second helping gratefully.

"Thanks kid." He grinned. She busied herself cleaning the dishes. "Trying out a new look?" He asked, glancing at her ratty tee shirt. Shilo smirked at him over her shoulder, making his chest feel tight.

"I have to wear it at work otherwise all my clothes would look like this." She examined the multicolored stains speckled all over it.

Graverobber nodded. He'd never felt more awkward. Clearing his throat again, he dared to say what was on his mind.

"We should talk about last night." He said. Shilo's movements at the sink slowed. What was she thinking? Shame? Regret? Disgust?

Graverobber winced, ready for the slew of insults he knew was coming.

"I'm so sorry." Is what Shilo said instead.

He felt like he'd been punched in the chest.

"What?" He choked out. Shilo hunched herself over the sink.

"I cornered you, you didn't want to, but I made you." She ran a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine how I compare to all those girls you must know downtown. Terrible probably."

Graverobber was stunned, completely immobilized. She was… guilty? How? He had to say something, what could he say?

"I'm sorry I made you do that. I just…wanted you so much, I… it's no excuse." She clutched the edge of the sink, her knuckles white. Graverobber willed himself to go to her and speak.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling how tense she was.

"You should not be sorry." He said softly, Shilo's trembling froze as his breath brushed the back of her head.

"But…" she started; he spoke quickly.

"I've known lots of women, and there is nothing to compare. Shilo, you put them all to shame." The truth of his words swelled in his chest.

Shilo turned to face him; her eyes glittered with tears, their chests an inch apart. He didn't know if it was the fact that he'd said her name, or if it was what he said that made her cheeks flush.

"So, you don't hate me?" She asked. Her eyes hopeful, like two giant bowls of melted chocolate.

Hate her? Hate?! How could he hate her? He… He what?

"Kid," He said, wiping away a stray tear, "You are the only person I don't hate."

She beamed up at him and the sight brought an airy feeling into Graverobber's chest. She crushed him in a hug before flitting away to gather her things.

He shrugged on his coat, taking a quick moment to redo his trademark makeup.

Shilo came back in, smirking at the image of him and his tiny compact mirror and eye pencil.

"Choose your words carefully." He cautioned. Shilo bit her bottom lip, stifling a laugh. Instead she walked over and sat herself up on the table in front of him, her hands fingering his array of cosmetics. Graverobber's eyes drifted up her legs, peeking beneath her shorts he remembered how she'd looked last night. Spread out beneath him, warm and inviting. He felt the head spread across his lap.

"Can I try this?" She asked, holding up his tube of black lip stick. Graverobber nodded dumbly, handing her the battered compact mirror. Shilo took it and expertly lined her lips with the black goop. He watched her mouth work, as it opened and closed and rolled. When she was finished, Shilo looked at him.

"What do you think?"

The dark lips made her ivory skin look even paler, and it matched her hair to the point that her face might as well be a black and white photo.

"I don't think it's your color, Sugar." He admitted, taking the tube from her. Shilo chuckled, sticking out her tongue before swooping down and kissing his exposed neck. It left a black swatch of lips on his skin. Graverobber was taken aback by the playful show of affection. Shilo hopped off the table and went out to the foyer.

Graverobber gathered up his stuff and followed, choosing not to wipe off the kiss.

Shilo was sitting on the stairs, tying the laces of her chunky black boots. She stoo and pulled on a tailored, grey peacoat, buttoning it up to her chest. Graverobber watched her, so simple and pure. What could she possibly want from him?

"So, I'll see you later." Shilo said. And then she was gone.

Out the door.

Leaving Graverobber to ponder over her vague farewell.


End file.
